Rearviewmirror
by David Ginsberg
Summary: With his new job at Keller-Marsden, Shawn finally feels like a success in life. But Mr. Turner doesn't seem to think so, and there's always the possibility that Shawn's past catches up to him. Continues the series that starts with Everlong; direct sequel to How to Succeed in Business.
1. Chapter 1

Shawn ended up in Jack's car with him, Turner, and Vicki, Turner's former nurse and current girlfriend.

"Remind me again why we're all going on a ski trip together?" Vicki asked.

"Ok," Shawn exhaled. "Jack's step-dad's publishing company gave Mr. and Mrs. Matthews a free ski trip after her romance novel hit topped the bestseller lists because they're hoping it will lead to a sequel, but Mr. and Mrs. Matthews want to make sure Cory and Topanga are both rooming with an adult, so they invited you and Vicki."

"So why is Feeney coming?"

"To chaperone me."

"Poor guy."

"Ok, Hunter," Turner asked, "What's your plan to get around this?"

"To explain it I'd have to get the diagrams out of the trunk."

"They're protected, right?"

"Don't worry, I got Topanga a prescription under Eric's name, I gave Cory the demonstration with the banana, and I've got a bottle of mifepristone and the number of a clinic in East Stroudsburg in my suitcase, just in case."

Jack looked worried. "Is there a reason you're so adamant about safe sex?"

"Relax, I picked it up from Dad yelling at Stacy that she ruined his life."

Turner decided to change the subject. "So how's the job going?"

"Great, they just put me on the Morley account."

"The cigarette brand?"

"Yeah, they're trying to figure out a way to advertise to teenagers without the FTC realizing they're advertising to teenagers."

"And you're comfortable with that."

"Huh?"

"I mean, you don't think it's a little unethical."

"Eh, no one's putting a gun to anyone's head."

Turner decided not to say anything more. They pulled up at the lodge to find everyone fussing over Cory.

"What happened?" Shawn asked Angela.

She rolled her eyes "He slipped getting out of the car, the receptionist thinks it's just a minor sprain."

Shawn regarded the scene on the couch for a moment. "Awful friendly receptionist."

"You think we have time to…get away?"

"Actually, I think we have time to hit the slopes first."

When came back downstairs, Topanga and Cory were playing 20 questions. Shawn and Angela watched as the game devolved into a monologue on the mating habits of falcons. Finally, Shawn couldn't take it anymore. He stood up, stretched, and faked a loud yawn.

"Well, I guess I'd better hit the hay."

That was Topanga's signal, and she got up and followed Shawn and Angela upstairs. Precisely two hours later, she got up and followed the path Shawn had mapped out for her towards an empty room, which Shawn had reserved under an assumed name for her and Cory's benefit. As she crossed the lobby, Topanga noticed Cory and Lauren, still seated on the couch. Topanga hid behind a chimney and watched helplessly as Lauren leaned in and kissed Cory.


	2. Chapter 2

This had to be the worst Valentine's Day of Shawn Hunter's life, and his baseline for Valentine's Days wasn't exactly great. Three of his exes had tricked him into coming to the boathouse, handcuffed him, and were now enacting a mock trial for being "a bad boyfriend." It all seemed to Shawn like something from a bad indie movie.

Fortunately, this time he had Jack and Eric to save him. Unfortunately, Eric seemed to think he was enjoying this. "How come Shawn's getting all this attention?"

"We're friends with Angela," Jennifer explained.

"We're protecting one of our own."

"Thanks, girls, but I don't need your protection," Shawn looked up to see Angela standing in the door of the boathouse, with Cory standing behind her, "and friends don't kidnap each other's boyfriends."

She took the key to the handcuffs from Jennifer and freed Shawn, who immediately embraced her.

"Angela, I wanted to be with you more than anything in the world tonight."

"The defender will refrain from using his charm to sway the witness!" Dana barked.

"And we're _not_ leaving until you admit that you're not boyfriend material."

"Guys!" Angela snapped, "there's a difference between boyfriend material and husband material. I know you guys have probably got this idea from television that your first boyfriend is going to be Prince Charming and sweep you off your feet to live happily ever after, but we are in _high school._ It's normal to date for a few weeks and then realize the attraction was more physical than emotional, no offense Cory."

"None taken," Cory said ruefully.

"Now if you'll excuse me," Angela said, "I've got a Valentine's Day date with my boyfriend."

"I'm pretty sure we overshot my reservation," Shawn explained as they walked out of the boathouse.

"Chubbie's?" Angela suggested.

"We're going to end up eating with Cory after Topanga doesn't show up, but sure."

Sure enough, they all ended up in a booth watching Cory stare forlornly at the door.

"Ok, why does he think she'll come here specifically? Angela asked."

"This is where their first date was. They come here every Valentine's Day."

"Well, the two Valentine's Days they've been dating," Eric clarified.

"And this makes Cory the Valentine's Day veteran?"

"Compared to me," Shawn admitted, "I've never actually been with someone on Valentine's Day before."

"So what do you usually do?"

"I get a Valentine's Day card from the creepy mailman, make an excuse about my card for him being in the mail, lock the door to the trailer, and try to keep my parents from fighting."

Jack looked worried. "Anything else you want to tell us about this mailman?"

"Relax, he told me I'm getting too old for him."

Across the room, Cory sighed melodramatically.

"Time to go?" Angela asked.

Shawn looked over at Cory. "Yep." They both got up, leaving Eric and Jack at the booth, and sat down next to Cory.


	3. Chapter 3

Jon Turner stopped Shawn as he was leaving class. "Hey, Hunter, nice horror story."

"Thanks."

"Not sure if I believe you about the 'sick as you can without actually dying' part."

"Eh, I didn't want to let Jill McIntyre down too hard."

"Yeah, when she finished reading that story about you and Matthews I wasn't sure whether to call the counselor for her or for me. By the way, how much longer is the great Corpanga breakup of '97 going to last?"

"My bet is it's permanent."

"Then it's going to be a looong summer."

"I guess so."

"The reason I brought it up is, there's this workshop program for high school writers at the University of Iowa I thought you might be interested in." Turner placed a brochure on the desk.

"Ummm, thanks" Shawn responded. "I'm not sure if I can take that much time off from work."

"Then quit your job. It's just a silly after school job."

"Actually, they just hired me permanently. See, Morley doesn't want the FTC to know they've got a 16 year-old working on their account, so they made me an account director. I even get dental now, see?" Shawn pulled back his cheek to reveal a new filling in his back molar, "and Marsden says he'll write me a letter of recommendation to Wharton."

"Wharton? I thought you wanted to be a writer."

"I enjoy writing; I'm not sure I want to _be_ a writer. It isn't exactly the most lucrative career in the world."

"Yeah, but you'll have your integrity. You'll know that you're creating something of value to the world, instead of selling cancer to kids."

"You know, my dad always had this saying 'honesty doesn't pay the bills.'"

"Neither does your dad. I hear he's back in town."

"Yeah, we're going to get dinner tomorrow." The bell rang. "I'd better get to class. Hey, you know Angela writes poetry, she might be interested in that workshop."


	4. Chapter 4

Chet took Shawn to a truck stop outside of Baltimore. Shawn thought it was an odd place to get dinner, but Chet seemed to know the owner. "Amy Sue!" he greeted the waitress, "is Merle around?

"Sure thing, I'll go in back and get him. You boys want the chicken-fried steak?"

"You know it."

When Merle came out, Shawn thought that he reminded him of the guy from ZZ Top.

"Merle!" Chet stood up, "I want ya' to meet my boy Shawnie."

Shawn shook Merle's hand.

"Shawnie's the one I've been telling you about who got that big fancy job with the advertising agency."

"Keller-Marsden," Shawn explained, not sure how much reason Merle had to trust his father, "we do those Apple commercials that say 'think different.'"

"Those were Shawnie's idea," Chet said. Shawn realized that, maybe for the first time in his life, his father was proud of him.

They both knocked back a few beers to force down the chicken-fried steak (Shawn wasn't sure what kind of meat it actually was, and suspected that he didn't want to know), and Chet introduced Shawn to the other regulars. Shawn noticed that Chet's description of his job included a minimum of distortions.

Finally, the truck stop emptied out, and they drove home. If he had been sober, Shawn would have worried about his father's ability to drive, but as it was they simply careened down the highway with Exile on Main Street playing at full volume.

Miraculously, they made it to the apartment intact. Chet got out of the car and hugged Shawn. "Can I come up?"

"Um…you know Jack doesn't really like you coming up there."

"I know, and I know I haven't been a very good father to you, and sometimes, I, well, I lose my temper. But you turned out good, Slim Jim. You turned out real good."

"Thanks, Dad."

Shawn happened to open the door to the apartment just as Jack was leading a girl out of his bedroom. Jack said his goodbyes and then turned to Shawn with an accusatory stare. "He got you drunk."

"Yeah, we had a good time."

"I'm assuming he drove you home drunk."

"Look, just let me have this night, ok."

Jack put a friendly hand on Shawn's shoulder. "Alright, but tomorrow I'm going to be a real asshole."

Jack kept his promise by turning on every light in the apartment and playing Dave Matthews Band, which Shawn hated, at his stereo's full volume as soon has he woke up in the morning.

Shawn stumbled, hungover, into the living room. "You want to turn that down a little?"

Instead of complying, Jack walked over to Shawn, timing his movements so that he and Dave could shout "MOM IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!" extremely loudly in Shawn's face.

Shawn went over to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. "Is this an attempt to teach me some sort of lesson?" He glared at Jack, but it was more of a hungover glare that what Jack had come to think of as the 'scary-Shawn glare,' so he knew he hadn't gone too far yet.

"Indeed it is," Jack said, a little louder than he needed to, "and the topic of today's lesson is…the DANGERS of ALCOHOL abuse."

Shawn took a sip of coffee. "You've never had a problem with me drinking before."

"Yeah, because you've never been this irresponsible before."

Eric, having been woken up by all the noise, walked into the kitchen.

"Shawn's irresponsible?"

"Not so much Shawn as his FATHER, who last night decided to take his 16-YEAR OLD son to…where did he take you?"

"A truck stop outside of Baltimore."

"Oh, ok. Baltimore, an HOUR away, where he got his, again, 16-year old, son, shitfaced DRUNK, and then DROVE back, presumably drunk himself, at THREE O'CLOCK in the morning."

"Look, we had a good time, alright" Shawn protested.

"And how long do the good times usually last?"

"A couple of months."

Jack sighed. "Alright, I get that you need to have some sort of relationship with your father. But you've got to be careful not to let him drag you down with him."

"So does this conclude my punishment?" Shawn asked.

"Not quite," Jack pointed to Shawn's mug, "that coffee's decaf."


	5. Chapter 5

Shawn could tell Cory'd pre-gamed before he showed up at the party, and he didn't get any better after a couple of glasses of Kimberly's punch. After a conversation with Topanga that Shawn didn't overhear but that made Topanga leave, he ended up going to the bathroom for an hour and a half. Finally, Shawn decided to talk to him and knocked on the door.

"Cory, open up!"

Shawn heard Cory mutter something about his 'sidekick' and then open the door. "Helooo."

This was the drunkest Shawn had ever seen Cory, who was not noted for his tolerance. He walked inside and closed the door behind him "Dude, you've been in here for like an hour and a half."

"Are they asking for me?"

"Topanga left."

"She did? That's too bad, I was gonna dance with her."

Shawn looked around and noticed a half-empty bottle of whisky on the sink

"Hey, is that yours?"

"This," Cory picked up the whisky bottle, "was given to me when I stole it from my father." He proffered it to Shawn "You want?"

Shawn grinned "Wait a minute, Cory is the one holding the bottle. What's wrong with this picture?"

"'Cause you said that no one wants to be around 'Cory the Downer' so now I'm not 'Cory the Downer'! You wanna drink?"

"I told you to have fun, not put away a pint of whisky."

"Well I am having a good time! And I want you to have a good time too." He offered Shawn the bottle "So drink!"

Shawn took a sip to shut Cory up. "Look, the party's kind of winding down anyway. Why don't I get you home?"

Shawn congratulated Kimberly on the nose job, put Cory's arm around his shoulder, and started walking Cory home. It was an excruciatingly long walk. Shawn had to talk Cory out of peeing on a police car, and Cory kept handing him the whisky bottle and bugging him to drink. By the time they got back to the Matthews', Shawn was far more inebriated than he'd planned on being.

It didn't help matters that Mr. and Mrs. Matthews were waiting in the kitchen. Amy mostly looked worried, but Alan looked furious.

"Sit down," he ordered. Shawn and Cory meekly obeyed.

"I checked the liquor cabinet when you didn't come home on time. How's it feel to put one over on your old man? You feel good?"

Cory shifted uncomfortably in his chair "No."

"I cannot believe my kid stole liquor from my cabinet, like... like... well like somebody else's kid!" He glared accusingly at Shawn.

Amy tried to calm things down "Cory, this isn't you."

Alan started shouting "No, of course it isn't! Somebody influenced him!" He looked back towards Shawn, "Didn't someone?"

Shawn wanted to break down crying, but he forced himself to look Mr. Matthews in the eyes.

Cory mumbled something unintelligible.

Shawn realized what he had to do. He'd always been the screw-up, and Cory had always been Mr. Teenage America in the eyes of his parents. He turned to Mr. and Mrs. Matthews. "Yeah, you know how lousy he's been feeling... well he wanted to feel good and I showed him how."

Mr. Matthews exploded "I am _sick_ and tired of overlooking the influence you have on my kid."

"I-I'll just stay away from Cory if that's what's going to put everything back to normal."

Shawn got up and left. He was in no shape to drive back to the apartment, even if he'd wanted to, so he decided to just go back to the trailer. Chet wasn't happy about being woken up.


	6. Chapter 6

Jonathan Turner decided to confront Shawn the first time he saw the ad campaign, but he knew he couldn't do it at school. He had to admit it was a brilliant idea. Instead of advertising the cigarettes directly, they had sponsored a public service campaign warning people not to buy cigarettes for minors, because they were only appropriate for adults. It was exactly the sort of thing that would make a teenager desperate to seem more grown up reach for a Morley, and only a teenager or a teacher would have come up with it.

When he went to the apartment, Eric told him that Shawn had moved back into the trailer. Apparently there was some sort of fight when he brought Chet into the apartment, which Jack had strictly forbidden.

He found Shawn in the trailer, peeling the label off an empty bottle of beer.

"Where's your dad?"

"Liquor run."

Turner noticed that Shawn's eyes were bloodshot. "You're drunk."

"We finally found something we have in common. To what do I owe the honor of your presence?"

"The cigarette ad."

"You like it." Shawn was being sarcastic.

"No I don't like it! You're leading kids to do something that'll damage them for life, because somebody offered you a paycheck. You know, you've pulled some dumb crap in your time, Hunter, but this is the first time I've been honestly disappointed in you."

Shawn stood up. Something about his mannerisms when he was drunk reminded Turner of Chet, and it frightened him.

"Look, I didn't put a gun to anybody's head and tell them to start smoking, ok. We get a commission from a client, and we fulfill the commission. That's the business."

"Well it's a dirty business."

Shawn gestured at the squalor around him. "It's a dirty business that'll get me out of here. You'd better go before Dad gets home. He doesn't like it when teachers come over, he thinks you're nosing around in his business."

Turner noticed that Shawn had fresh bruises on his forearms, and softened the tone of his voice. "Look, Shawn, you have incredible gifts. I don't want you to waste them lying to people for money."

"I inherited two things from my father. A drinking problem and a gift for lying."

"Shawn, all you'll be doing is convincing people to give up their individuality to buy into some brand."

"A brand huh, so what's Mr. Turner the cool English teacher with the Harley and the earring who gave up a life of wealth and ease to help poor little Shawnie from the broken home? That's not a brand?"

Turner deflected the question. "You know what the difference between advertising and what your dad does is, Hunter? Dental insurance."

"Good, that's all I've ever wanted."

"Is that what you really want from life Shawn? To spend your whole life making up new ways to sell people stuff they don't need and shouldn't want, and then come home to a mortgage in the suburbs? To be some corporate drone?"

"Yes, that's what I want from life. I want a house in the suburbs where I know I'll be sleeping for the next 30 years, and a job that's going to be there for 30 years, and a car that doesn't break down, and clothes that fit. I'm sick of being the very special episode of the Cory Matthews Show and the Lou Diamond Phillips character in your hero teacher movie."

"You're not…"

"Look, I really appreciate everything you've done for me. But you did it because you felt sorry for me, not because you respected me. I want to be somebody people respect, and this job is the best way to do it."

"Ok, if that's what you want, go ahead and get it."

"I will."


	7. Chapter 7

The next visitor to the trailer was Angela. Shawn smiled when he first saw her, but the look on her face immediately told him that this wasn't going to be an enjoyable visit.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, nervously.

"I got into that writer's workshop in Iowa."

"Hey! Good for you."

"Yeah, Turner told me you suggested he tell me about it."

"Ah."

"You know, he's really worried about you."

"Yeah, he came over yesterday. We had a nice long chat about how 'worried' he is."

"Shawn, I'm worried about you too."

Shawn looked at the ground and didn't say anything.

"It's just, you've seemed really distant the past few weeks," Angela continued, "more so than usual. And, I don't like it when you drink like this."

Shaw grew angry. "Well, I don't like me when I'm sober."

"Shawn, it's ok. Look we can talk about _anything_." Angela tried to take his hand but he pulled it away from her. "If there's a problem we can figure out what to do."

Shawn picked up a beer bottle. "I drink this stuff because I like it! It makes me feel good."

Angela's voice wavered. "I can't watch you do this to yourself. Call me when you're ready to talk."

When she'd left Shawn sat down on the couch and stared at his beer bottle. "How the hell did this happen?"

He shrugged and took another swig.


	8. Chapter 8

Cory had explained what really happened as soon as he sobered up, earning himself an extra month of being grounded, and his father a nagging sense of guilt over what he'd said to Shawn. It didn't help that Cory reported that Shawn was coming to school with bruises and probably a hangover, and refusing to talk to him.

Finally, Alan decided to drive over to the apartment and apologize. He found Eric in the living room eating a bowl of cereal.

"Do you know where Shawn is?"

"He hasn't been here for like a week."

Jack emerged from the bathroom with a fresh bandage on his face. "He's been staying at the trailer. I tried to go over and get him, and" he pointed to the bandage, "this is the result. Do you know what happened?"

Alan sighed. "It's partially my fault. Cory got drunk, and then got Shawn drunk. When they came home I assumed Shawn had put him up to it, and I…said some things I probably shouldn't have. I came here to apologize. Where is he now?"

"I assume at school."

"Do you have a class?"

"I can skip it."

"Good, we'll need two cars."

They drove over to the school and asked to speak to Mr. Feeny. When they'd explained what had happened he agreed to bring Shawn to his office after the last class.

When Shawn saw them, he turned around to bolt, but the door was blocked by Mr. Turner.

"You guys know me too well." Defeated, Shawn slumped in the chair. He looked awful. There were bags under his eyes and bruises on his arms that Jack guessed were from Chet grabbing him during an argument.

"Look, Shawn you have to move out of your Dad's place," Turner remonstrated.

"But he's my dad, and when did you turn into my best friend again? I thought I was a disappointment."

"That's not what I meant, Shawn."

Jack had no idea what this argument was about, but whatever it was had to be of secondary importance to getting Shawn out of the trailer. "Chet may be our biological father, but I'm your legal guardian, and he's violating the guardianship agreement. If I have to, I'll get a restraining order against him."

"Look, Jack we're finally getting along."

Feeny took Shawn's arms and held them up in his face. "You call this getting along! Do you think I don't realize you've been coming to school hungover?"

"No, sir." Shawn muttered.

"How long will it be before you start coming to school drunk, and then stop coming at all." Alan had never seen Mr. Feeny this angry before. "Do you think that Keller-Marsden is going to keep employing you when you show up to work drunk? How long is it going to take you to throw away everything you've spent the past two years working so hard for?"

Shawn said nothing, and he appeared to be fighting back tears. Mr. Feeny sat down at his desk and spoke to Shawn calmly.

"You are going to go home with your brother, Mr. Matthews is going to ask your father to leave town, and I'm going to see you bright and early Monday morning."

"Yes, sir."

Alan spoke up. "Look, Shawn, I want to apologize for last Friday. I was worried about my kid, and I said some things I shouldn't have."

Shawn looked up. "You're a good father Mr. Matthews."

Jack led Shawn out to his car.

"I think you ought to lay off the booze completely for a month or so, just to see if you can."

"Sure."

"And maybe think about seeing a psychologist."

Shawn recovered a little of his defiance. "I'm not crazy."

"I'm not saying you are, I'm just saying a psychologist might be able to, you know, help you work through your issues with your dad."

"That's bullshit."

Jack sighed, "I know, and it's not that I think you're going to start talking to the furniture or something, that's more of a concern with Eric. But even when you're in a good mood it's like, there's some part of you that's always looking around the room for an escape route. And you don't…you don't seem to like yourself very much."

"A lot of people don't like themselves, Jack."

"Anyway, I've set you up an appointment with a professor at Penn."


	9. Chapter 9

Alan and Jon drove in silence to the Pink Flamingo Trailer Park. Even though it was the middle of the day, Chet Hunter's car was parked in front of his dilapidated trailer.

Alan knocked on the door, and after several seconds and some curses from inside the trailer, Chet opened it wearing a dirty undershirt and boxer shorts. He blinked in the sunlight and his eyes narrowed as he recognized Alan.

"You're Corky's dad, ain't you?"

"Cory's."

"And you're Shawnie's teacher." Jon could smell the booze on him. "He ain't in any trouble, is he?"

"He isn't but you are. I've already filed a report with the Department of Social Services, and if you don't want Jack to press charges, you'll be out of the greater Philadelphia region by sundown."

"And we think it's best if you don't contact Shawn until he turns 18," Alan added.

"And what exactly gives you the authority to be making that declaration?"

"I fed him when you didn't, and I pretended not to notice him stealing bread from my supermarket. I left Eric's hand-me-downs with your wife and made sure he didn't find out about them. I let him sleep over at my house because I knew he was afraid to go home, and when you ran out on him I took him in, and when I couldn't handle him anymore he took him," Alan gestured to Jon, "and was the closest thing to a father he's ever had."

Chet scowled "Look, I appreciate everything you've done for my boy, but at the end of the day, he's my son, not yours, and I'll decide what's best for him."

Alan lost his temper, and shoved Chet against the wall of the trailer, hard enough to rattle the cheap vinyl siding. "Shawn Hunter may not be my son, but he's the closest friend my son ever had, and the judgement I made a long time ago is that I would kill to protect Shawn Hunter from you."

Jon grabbed Alan's shoulder. "Easy there."

Chet realized that he was in a fight he wouldn't win. "Well if that's how it is, then I'll just be leaving."

They followed the trailer to the Delaware state line and then turned back towards Cedar Heights.

Alan sighed. "I should have done that a long time ago."

Jon was silent for a moment. "What made you first take an interest in him?"

"He reminded me a lot of myself when I was a kid. My mom was…flighty, and my dad was always working, so I pretty much grew up on the street."

"You?"

"And when you grow up like that in Philly in the 60s you get into a lot of trouble. Eventually, my dad made me join the Navy, and then I met Amy…anyway, I don't know why I'm telling you all this."

"I think I screwed up with Shawn."

"What happened?"

"You know that ad company's got him working for a tobacco company."

"I guess he is sort of their target demographic."

"Well I confronted him about it, and I said I was disappointed in him. I probably said some things I shouldn't have."

"I didn't know you felt that strongly about cigarettes."

"It's not just that, it's the whole advertising thing. He's stopped writing as much as he used to because he's chasing after a goddamn paycheck."

"What'd he say when you talked to him?"

"All he wanted out of life was a mortgage and dental insurance."

"There are worse things to want out of life."

"This kid…I mean he could be extraordinary, and all he wants to be is normal."

Alan chuckled. "You know, you're more like Cory than you realize."

"How so?"

"He doesn't understand why I'd want to be average. When I was a kid, average was a dream to me. My father worked his butt off sweeping out a tiny grocery store in a bad part of South Philadelphia, so maybe his son could have something more out of life. And I worked my butt off, so my kids could have something more, but now that they've got it, they don't appreciate it. They think I'm average, and they're embarrassed by me."

"No, you're a good father, Alan."

"Then maybe sometimes being a good father means your kids don't understand you. That's what Cory doesn't understand about me or about Shawn. The one thing I can say for myself is that I've always provided my kids with security. When you grow up with that it doesn't seem to matter much, but when you grow up without it, it matters more than anything in the world. Once you've got it you can step back and start to think about fulfillment and leaving your mark on the world, but Shawn is still a long way from that."

"I guess I never thought of it that way."

They had arrived at the school, and Jon got on his motorcycle. When he got back to his apartment, he called Vicki and asked to postpone their dinner plans, explaining that he'd been busy with Shawn. His next call was to his parents.

His father answered the phone gruffly. "Hello, who is this?"

"It's Jon."

"What do you want?"

"I just wanted to say, thank you."


	10. Chapter 10

The trip to the psychologist hadn't gone exactly how Jack had planned. He was expecting her to just tell Shawn he needed to work on his self-esteem. He'd sat in the waiting room while she did the evaluation or whatever the hell it was, and by the time he'd been called back in, Shawn had acquired his own acronym.

They ended up on the couch, Shawn sobbing quietly with Jack's arm wrapped around his shoulder. He'd thought about calling Angela or Cory but he wasn't sure Shawn would want them to find out.

Shawn finally reached the point where he couldn't cry anymore. "Why can't I be normal?" he groaned.

Jack felt his own eyes welling with tears. "I dunno, kid."

The shrink had coolly informed him that "in cases like these, it's not so much becoming normal as learning to cope," which sounded an awful lot to Jack like, "we can't fix him but we can teach him to act sane so he doesn't disturb the neighbors."

"Look, Shawn, you don't have to see the psychologist anymore."

"Is the no-drinking rule still in effect?"

"Yeah. We might need to extend it another month." The psychologist had said something about 'self-medicating.'

"Christ, I just want to be unconscious."

"Shawn, you've never thought about…"

"…I couldn't do that to Cory."

Jack suddenly knew what it felt like to be punched in the stomach.

There was another long silence which Shawn finally broke, "I'm such a screw-up."

"No, your parents and those goddamn social workers screwed you up. You've done…with what you had to work with, you've done a lot."

Shawn said nothing as Jack held him closer, and finally went to sleep. Jack picked him up, put him to bed, and pulled the blanket over him.


End file.
